The Post Mortem is in.

In a painstakingly thorough autopsy that would have made Dr. Quincy M.E. seethe with envy, I've finally outlined the causes of death of my first screenplay, "The Spokesman".

• The depiction of Jesus Christ as a wood-fearing, father-loathing bedwetter probably caused irreparable damage to fair-minded sensibilities.
• The inclusion of Sid Vicious in Heaven probably strained the limits of believability to breaking point.
• Pervasive use of the words "jejune" and "insouciance" reduced characters to pretentious twats.
• Failure to include an obscure homage to Asian Cinema proved catastrophic.
• Complications arose from a car chase that was too avant-garde.
• A fairly predictable sex scene proved to be a weak antidote.
• The plot developed Alzheimer's and by the end had no idea where it was supposed to be.
• The screenplay was riddled with too many cliches, e.g., the British soccer hooligan; the penny-pinching Jew; the child-molesting Catholic Priest; the coke-snorting Australian ad guy; the Russian whore; the error-prone intern; the Korean deli-owner who pretends not to understand English.
  
• There was no role for Megan Fox.

I move on to the next screenplay with much momentum and optimism.